Timeless
by trufflemores
Summary: 4.08. Barry and Iris share a sweet moment after everything, basking in their new marriage.


Framing him with her knees on their bed, Iris kneels on top of Barry and smiles down at him. "Hey, husband."

He strokes his hands down her sides, hair all ruffled the way she likes and stars in his eyes. "Hi, Iris West-Allen," he replies softly. He tucks a stray lock of hair behind her ears, letting the backs of his fingers stroke her cheek. "You are so, so beautiful."

"Mmhm?" she asks, a little playful, leaning down to kiss him.

"Mm," he agrees, wrapping his arms around her. She loves how warm he is, how soft and sweet and _hers_ he is. She doesn't know when they break apart, only knows his words close enough she almost doesn't need to hear them at all: "I've never been this happy before."

"Makes two of us," she replies, keeping her voice low. She leans up to kiss his jaw, enjoying the hint of stubble. A younger, pre-lightning Barry never contended with it, but now, its evening appearance is part of him. She loves it.

Humming happily, he draws little circles against her back, the only sign he's still awake. She's not surprised; they didn't waste a second, zipping back to the apartment, locking the door, sending off a stern "do not disturb" message to everyone relevant, and literally tumbling into bed together, laughing. "I'm sorry, too fast?" he asked, rubbing her arms apologetically. She undid his tie in lieu of saying, _God, not fast enough_.

She has no idea how long ago that was, but she's just as happy-tired as he is, just as keen to stay awake with him. His bare chest rises and falls slowly underneath her hands, vibrating softly with each rolling Speed-purr. She kisses him and he kisses back lazily. "I love you so much," he tells her for the fourteenth time this hour. She curls a hand in his hair; he repeats in the same chasing-deep-sleep voice, "I love you so, so, so much."

"I couldn't tell," she teases, tilting her head so he can kiss the underside of her jaw, humming in contentment. "We're _married_ ," she breathes, intercepting his next kiss.

He smiles against her lips, unable to help himself, before kissing back properly.

She tugs his hair lightly, teasingly. With a soft, contented sound, he shuffles so she can slide between his legs and lie perfectly flat against him. "I should have married you years ago," she murmurs, pillowing her head on his shoulder. Stroking a thumb against his collarbone, she adds, "I can't believe we waited this long."

"We got married in front of a dinosaur," he yawns, unflappable awareness finally faltering. Iris smiles. Barry's a high energy person - even in the earliest hours of the morning, he's usually bright-eyed and bushy-tailed. The consciousness gap is always her sleepily shuffling into his arms; the alternative is charming. "That was legally binding," he sighs.

She squeezes him. "You falling asleep on me?" she teases.

He doesn't even open his eyes. "No, I'm falling asleep under you," he mumbles. She pinches his side lightly and he presses a kiss to her temple. "I love you."

"Seventeen," she teases.

"I love you," he repeats through another yawn. "I love you, I love you, I love you..." He kisses her with each affirmation, like he can impress it on her, a promise like a wedding ring. Just the thought of having one, officially, makes her a little misty-eyed. She's excited for tomorrow, but she also hopes it stays far, far away from this place of perfect stillness. She never wants to move again. "I love you so much, Iris Ann West-Allen."

"I love you, too, Bartholomew Henry West-Allen," she says, listening to his breathing deepen underneath her. Her own matches it quietly, slowing, slowing, slowing. "I love sharing your name," she tells him.

He cradles the back of her head, stroking her hair. "Mm, I love sharing yours," he says, kissing her forehead. "Forever and ever."

"Forever and ever," she agrees lightly, letting her own eyes close. "We're sleeping in tomorrow."

"Mmkay."

"I mean it. No running away on me." She tightens her grip around him, fierce enough to let him know she isn't kidding. "You're staying with me."

"Mmhm. Forever."

She says, "I get to spend the rest of my life with you."

"Don't make me cry again," he murmurs, thumb stroking her neck. "Please. I'm so tired. I'm so happy. I will cry."

"It's probably flattering in some way that I can move The Flash to tears," she muses.

He says, "'m not The Flash. I'm your Barry."

She has no words for that, shimmying up to kiss his closed eyelids. "My Barry," she agrees in a breath, resting her forehead against his, his hand sliding down to rub her arm.

She sits up just so and his eyes open to slits to regard her, hand centering on her elbow. There are tears in his eyes, but his lightning radiates only joy. "You are the love of my life," he tells her, like he is reciting the name of his soul. "You are everything to me."

"You're everything to me," she replies, nestling down in his arms. "I love you."

"I love you, too," he says, purrs deepening, eyes shut. "Always."

She knits her pinky with his, drawing their intertwined hands up to rest over his heart. "Go to sleep, babe."

"You first."

Squeezing his hand, she only has to wait a few moments before his breath drifts into that range she knows is truly asleep. She strokes his hand with her thumb and it doesn't move, but he is alive beneath her, full of lightning-warmth and joy, and she shares it, even without his lightning.

And she gets this, forever.

When she drifts off at last, he's there in her dreams, nine-years-old and clambering up on stage to dance with her.

She loves him so, so much.


End file.
